


Coal

by FloreatCastellum



Series: Slice of Life One-Shots [37]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Child Abuse, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Domestic Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Harry is a Good Dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21534823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloreatCastellum/pseuds/FloreatCastellum
Summary: Two Christmases, a lifetime apart.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: Slice of Life One-Shots [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1344409
Comments: 25
Kudos: 387





	Coal

He had been really good this year. He had really tried. He lay in his cupboard, vaguely aware it was far too early, but the bubble of hope as he thought about how much he had tried to remember to say please and thank you, and not fight back against Dudley, and to keep out of the way of Aunt Petunia kept him as wide awake as though it were the middle of the day. 

He had even tried to stay awake, hoping that if he heard Father Christmas, he could go out and explain that he had tried very hard, and he wasn’t exactly sure what made Dudley a good boy and him a naughty boy, but that he didn’t need much, no where near the same amount as Dudley, but perhaps just a little something. Aunt Petunia had let him write a list, after all, and he’d been very careful to be polite in it, and he’d made sure to say that he didn’t need everything on it, but if it would be at all possible he would love a proper policeman’s hat, or a pogo ball, or some proper colouring pencils, not the wax crayons he had because it was hard to get them to make a mark a lot of the time. 

He could hear thudding movement upstairs - Dudley was running to his parents' room, he could hear their mumbled, tired voices and Dudley’s excited shouts. 

Harry watched through the keyhole of his cupboard door as the Dursleys rose and started the day, his uncle lumbering into the living room with a great, noisy yawn and switching on the Christmas lights, Dudley pelting into the living room with an excited yelp of, ‘he’s been, he’s been!’ 

Aunt Petunia opened Harry’s cupboard door, and he looked up at her hopefully, twisting the hem of his pyjama top. ‘Did Father Christmas come for me too?’ he asked, daring to allow anticipation to swell up inside him. 

She didn’t answer, but jerked her head irritably to the living room, and stood aside to let him out. 

Dudley’s stocking was straining at the seams, and beneath it was a positive mountain of presents that he would have to unwrap before even reaching the stocking, the wrapping shining and gleaming in the twinkling lights from the tree. In the time it had taken Harry to walk from his cupboard to the living room, Dudley had torn the wrapping off two presents already (a massive water gun and a Lego set), cast them aside and was unwrapping a gleaming red bicycle. 

In Harry’s stocking was his usual chunks of coal, the black dust coating the inside of the red cloth and clinging to the white fur trim. He carefully put it down on the little tile hearth by the electric fire, so it wouldn’t get on his aunt’s perfectly vacuumed carpet, and tried to hold back the tears. He failed. 

Aunt Petunia pulled him by the arm, out of Dudley’s way, who was busy repeatedly ringing the shrill brass bell on his new bicycle. ‘Stop crying,’ she told him shortly. ‘No one likes a crybaby.’ 

‘I tried really hard this year,’ Harry whimpered, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. He simply couldn’t understand how Dudley, who did none of the things their teacher said good little boys and girls did, had managed to trick Father Christmas like this, while he, Harry, was stuck on the naughty list yet again. He didn’t mean to be bad, funny things just seemed to happen around him, and it was very hard to guess what was going to make his aunt and uncle angry. 

‘Nevermind,’ she said briskly. ‘You’ll just have to try harder this year. Would you like your family present?’ 

He sniffed and gulped as he nodded, trying to control himself. ‘Yes, please,’ he whispered. 

She handed him a roughly wrapped present, and he opened it to find he had been given a wad of paper, as well as the traditional satsuma. 

‘Thank you,’ he said, his voice still small and struggling to fight through his tears. Behind him, Dudley had opened an animatronic bear, which was speaking to him in an irritating voice. 

‘You could make a start on trying harder for next year by peeling the sprouts,’ said Aunt Petunia. 

Harry nodded, wiped once again at his face, and followed her through to the kitchen. 

***

Almost a lifetime later, Harry lay on a bed in a room painted pink, the soft net canopy curtain draped over it irritatingly brushing against the side of his face, forced to share what little room there was with stuffed unicorns, nifflers, mooncalves and his five year old daughter, who’s wide eyes moved slowly back and forth between the book he was reading to her and his face. Her music box tinkled merrily from her bedside table, and the fairy lights cast a soft glow over them.

‘...To his team gave a whistle,’ he read, ‘and away they all flew like the down of a thistle.’ 

There was a distant thud and a faint ‘ow!’ from a neighbouring room, which caused him to pause, and both he and Lily looked to the door. When he heard Ginny’s voice saying, ‘get down now. Do you want Father Christmas to come? Do you?’ he felt satisfied that all was in hand, and he turned the page and continued. 

‘But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.’ 

He closed the book, and smiled down at Lily, but she looked worriedly back up at him. ‘Is Father Christmas definitely going to come tonight?’ 

‘What? Yes, of course - Mummy was just saying that to get James to stop… doing whatever it was he was doing.’ 

‘I hope he brings me presents.’ 

‘I’m sure he will.’ 

‘And not coal.’ 

He frowned. ‘Who told you he brings anyone coal?’ 

‘Louis - he said, you know in the song, about the list and checking who is naughty and who is nice, well he said that the naughty children get given coal and I asked Uncle Bill about it and he said yes, that’s right, and that’s why it’s important to be nice all year ‘round-’

‘Ah,’ said Harry slowly. ‘I see…’

‘So I’m a bit worried about James, because he can be a bit naughty sometimes, and I’m a bit worried about me because I do try to be nice but I haven’t been nice the whole year - that’s a really long time and I did call Al stupid the other day-’

Harry grinned at her. ‘You and your brothers will be fine, Lily, none of you are getting coal.’ 

‘How do you know?’ she asked, and she looked genuinely concerned. ‘Have you seen his list?’ 

‘Well, no, but I know about the kind of kids that get coal, and none of you are like that.’ He gently pulled her head closer to him and kissed the top of her soft red hair. ‘And I think we both know you’re on the nice list, because you’re lovely. And kind.’ 

‘What about James? I don’t want him to get coal either, that would make me really sad.’ 

He chuckled, and hugged her still closer. ‘James isn’t that kind of naughty, he just likes a laugh. He’ll be fine too. You don’t need to worry.’ 

‘OK,’ she said quietly. ‘I hope he got my list all right,’ she added nervously. ‘I hope he didn’t get me mixed up with another Lily.’ 

‘Well,’ whispered Harry, with a great air of conspiracy, ‘I shouldn’t really be telling you this… but Father Christmas did in fact floo me while I was at work to double check something on your list…’ 

She gasped, looking up at him desperately. ‘Did he? What did he say? What was it?’ 

He winced. ‘I can’t really remember… something about… your shoe size?’ 

She gasped again, and Harry couldn’t help but smile at the pure, soft excitement on her little face. ‘But that could be about the rollerskates! Daddy, do you think he got me rollerskates?’ 

‘Let’s hope so,’ he said. ‘But he wouldn’t have asked me that if he was just going to give you coal, would he?’ 

‘No, he wouldn’t,’ said Lily happily. ‘Daddy, I won’t be able to sleep, I’m too excited.’   
He kissed her forehead, then shifted her down a little and rearranged her duvet around her. ‘Well, listen out for the reindeer on the roof,’ he said, as he . ‘You’ll have to lie very still and quiet to hear, though, they’re surprisingly light on their feet.’ 

‘OK. Night night.’ 

‘Night night. Love you.’ 

She whispered that she loved him back, and he smiled at her as he pulled her bedroom door to with a warm creaking noise. 

Ginny was putting Al to bed, and Harry pulled James down from the top shelf in the airing cupboard and persuaded him, with significant difficulty, to brush his teeth. 

‘It’s not too late for Father Christmas to change his mind,’ he said. 

‘Mum already tried that,’ said James. ‘Father Christmas isn’t real. I’m not stupid.’ 

‘He is,’ said Harry, ‘but he’s this close,’ he raised his hand, his thumb and forefinger millimeters apart, ‘from losing his patience and giving your toys to children who do brush their teeth and get into bed when they’re told.’ 

His son eventually relented, and even allowed his father to tuck him into bed; though he did not want Harry to read him a Christmas story. 

By the time Harry returned downstairs, Ginny was gnawing on the carrot the kids had left out for the reindeer, and Harry swiftly took the glass of firewhiskey and a mince pie. ‘Al get down all right?’ he asked her. 

‘Mhmm,’ she mumbled through the carrot, before putting it down and grabbing a mince pie herself. ‘Little sweetheart, he asked if he could read me the story this year. How was Lily?’ 

‘Worried about getting coal,’ Harry said thickly, munching on the mince pie and sitting heavily on the sofa. ‘Well, actually - cuter than that, worried about James getting coal.’

Ginny laughed. ‘Bless her. Right,’ she glanced at the clock. ‘Give them half an hour to fall asleep before putting out the Father Christmas presents, d’you reckon? In case any of them come down - what time are Andromeda and Teddy getting here tomorrow?’ 

‘Ten.’ He took a gulp of his whiskey. ‘I better go in the back garden and try and put that bloody death trap up.’ 

‘It’s a trampoline, Harry.’ 

‘If you say so.’ 

They helped themselves to more whiskey and mince pies, redirecting Albus back to bed (he had only come down for water, he told them, while looking hopefully at the stockings pinned to the mantlepiece) and listening to the wireless for almost an hour before putting out the presents. Ginny decided to join him to put up the trampoline, because charms were only getting him so far and the instructions were confusing, not least because they were both taking sips of whiskey between each stage. 

‘Go on, then, give it a go, prove to me it’s not a death trap,’ said Harry, once it appeared to be up and stable. 

‘I’m not having a go,’ she laughed. ‘You must be joking.’ 

‘Go on,’ he goaded her, and she shrieked as he lunged for her legs, heaving her up onto the thing using his shoulder against her bum. ‘It was your idea-’

‘It wasn’t, it was on James’s list!’ she laughed as she clambered onto it. She gave a few bounces, still laughing as Harry leaned against the edge, grinning at her over his whiskey as she shrieked. ‘Higher,’ he ordered. 

‘I can’t - I’ve had three kids,’ she spluttered, giggling as she tried to steady herself. ‘You get up here, then!’ 

And so he set what little remained of his whiskey on the grass and clambered up onto the trampoline with his wife, grasping her hands and bouncing deliberately as hard as he could while she squealed and yelled with delight, reproachfully shrieking his name. 

The noise of their laughter and teasing one another had clearly been heard; the noticed the backdoor opening and froze, still bouncing up and down slightly as they both turned to see James standing in the doorway, his arms folded and his eyebrows raised. ‘Father Christmas brought that, did he?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, but if you don’t go to bed, he’ll come and take it back,’ Harry told him, though he couldn’t help but grin. ‘He told me so himself.’ 

‘Did he?’ said James dryly. 

‘Go to bed, James!’ Ginny called, and they watched, giggling, as James rolled his eyes and headed back into the house. ‘I think the illusion’s gone,’ Ginny said. 

‘Nah, I reckon we’ve got another year of him believing,’ said Harry, and Ginny snorted in amusement.

The next morning, their home was bursting with Christmas excitement, and Harry thought his heart would burst with joy as he watched his children’s happiness as they marvelled over their gifts, showing each one to he and Ginny, both of them pretending they had never seen it before and reacting with similar delight that Father Christmas had brought it for them. 

‘Mummy and Daddy haven’t done their stockings,’ said Lily suddenly, pointing up at the mantlepiece. ‘Father Christmas brought them something too.’ 

Harry and Ginny exchanged smiles - they had spent a good ten minutes the previous night pretending to try and hide them from one another, teasing each other about what might be inside. 

‘Chuck mine over then, James,’ said Ginny, ‘Lily, why don’t you get Daddy’s for him?’ 

So Lily, wobbly on her brand new rollerskates but with a determined look on her face, heaved the heavy looking stocking over to her father. He took it with a smile and looked inside as she rested her small hands on his knee and craned her neck. 

‘What did he get you?’ she asked. 

Harry sighed heavily. ‘Coal.’ 

Her face fell, she looked up at him, aghast, but he grinned down at her. 

‘Of course he didn’t get get me coal! Would I be on the naughty list? Look - what’s this? Ah, lovely, Honeydukes - and, hmm - this is a bit fiddly, can you help me open it?’ 

He held out the small, wrapped parcel, and she tore open the paper for him, revealing a little wooden box, inside which were a new set of cufflinks, each one with a little portion of a vintage map, one showing Godric’s Hollow, the other Ottery St Catchpole. 

He looked over at Ginny, who was smiling back him, in her hands the bottle of perfume he had bought her. ‘Did you see what Father Christmas got me?’ he asked her, grinning. ‘They’re fantastic.’ 

She beamed back at him. ‘He was very good to me, too.’ 

The doorbell rang. ‘Teddy!’ shouted James, leaping up and racing out of the room. 

Harry scooped his daughter up and followed. ‘Come on,’ he told her. ‘Let’s go and find out what Father Christmas brought Andromeda and Teddy, shall we?’


End file.
